


Better Than This

by Agent-Lizzo (NotEvenRossi)



Series: Rare Ship bingo [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s15e11 The Gamblers, Fluff, Implied Trans Male Character, It’s implied in like one line, M/M, Post Episode: s15e11 The Gamblers, Trans Male Character, Trans Sam Winchester, lots of comfort, mild hurt and comfort, some hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:47:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22850461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotEvenRossi/pseuds/Agent-Lizzo
Summary: “Food doesn’t taste like molecules anymore”Oh. —Sam was unsure if he had let a soft exclamation of that out loud, or if it was solely in his own mind. He felt his eyebrows furrow slightly as the weight of those words settled upon him. His mind went back to Castiel losing his grace after the angels had fallen from heaven. Him being in the bunker not long after he did get his— or not his grace, but someone’s grace. How the “peanut butter with grape jelly”— not jam as he found it unsettling— tasted like molecules… overwhelming. Sam moved to sit down next to Castiel knowing that this time he had said the soft “oh” outloud, as the words truly registered for him.
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester
Series: Rare Ship bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704943
Comments: 14
Kudos: 35





	Better Than This

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Castiel/Sam square on my rare ship bingo!!

If Sam strained his ears he could hear the crunch of someone eating before he entered the kitchen. The sound of a plastic bag, and the quiet ripple of cardboard giving way to the pressure of someone’s hand. 

“Jack I thought we talked about thi—“

He turned the corner into the kitchen, and stopped mid sentence. Alright. No. This wasn’t Jack out of his room for a midnight— no— two in the morning snack. Watching someone mid-bite of a snack should never be as concerning as it was for Sam in that moment. 

“Cas?” He asked, sounding equal parts surprised, confused, and concerned. Alright... This wasn’t the first time that he had seen Castiel eating something, but the times he had had been far, and few between. Except… Since Jack had returned Castiel had been snacking with the boy fairly often. Sam had assumed it was to appease Jack, as Sam found himself doing the same thing. Indulging in a midnight bowl of cookie crunch with Jack on more than one occasion despite it being too sweet, and him having to take the extra time it took to retrieve his tooth brush, and go to the bathroom that was a floor up from his room before he could return to bed. 

Cas still hadn’t moved, his hand still in the box, and his mouth mid chew. He reached for the glass of milk he had to swallow down the peanut butter crackers as Sam asked “what are you doing?”.

“There was only jam, no jelly so I thought these…” he took his hand out of the box, adjusting it to peer at the label “...these ritz bits would work in the place of a peanut bu—“

“No, no Cas not the snack. What are you doing eating?” He clarified with some emphasis on the final word, however he was fairly sure that had been Cas’ lame at best attempt to change the subject. 

Sam didn’t appreciate the sheepish not quite smile that he pulled from the seraph as much as he normally would have. The not-smile was overshadowed with doubt, shame… maybe the smallest bit of fear. Sam wasn’t entirely sure, it was difficult to decipher in his sleep fogged mind, but it set off alarm bells nonetheless. Sam found himself mentally recounting the times that he had seen Castiel eat; he could remember how… intrigued he had been when Famine had caused Jimmy to yearn for White Castle. He could still remember how pleased Castiel had been eating them, declaring that they made him quite happy. Yet another time that Sam would have felt captivated had the circumstances been different than their reality.

Castiel didn’t answer immediately, his intent gaze diverting itself to the table; Sam hated the way that Cas’ shoulders seemed to tense, and square out as if preparing for a heavy weight to drop upon them. After a few long moments of thought he allowed himself to look back up at Sam.

“Food doesn’t taste like molecules anymore” 

Oh. —Sam was unsure if he had let a soft exclamation of that out loud, or if it was solely in his own mind. He felt his eyebrows furrow slightly as the weight of those words settled upon him. His mind went back to Castiel losing his grace after the angels had fallen from heaven. Him being in the bunker not long after he did get his— or not his grace, but someone’s grace. How the “peanut butter with grape jelly”— not jam as he found it unsettling— tasted like molecules… overwhelming. Sam moved to sit down next to Castiel knowing that this time he had said the soft “oh” outloud, as the words truly registered for him. 

Sam evidently didn’t respond fast enough as Castiel began to speak once again “...and that means that my—“

“Your powers are failing. I know” Sam paused “since you weren’t able to heal Ketch’s bullet wound?” 

...in other words since everything with Chuck. Killing Jack, and opening a door for the spirits to escape from hadn’t been the only thing that he had caused. 

“Yes” confirmed Castiel after a moment of hesitation. 

Sam knew that this was a problem that he could currently do nothing about. Celestial issues like this were out of his hands; he had many questions regarding this, but none of them seemed of import at this moment. 

“Finish your ritz bits, and then we should go to bed” he decided after a moment, rolling his shoulders, and settling further into his seat. His arm brushed against Cas’, and he found himself leaning into the other man in an attempt to offer some comfort; Castiel leaned back into Sam’s side, and ate a few more of the crackers before shutting the box, putting it away. 

Sam stood to his full 6’4” glory not even a moment after; he let his hand rest lightly on the small of Castiel’s back, not responding to his questioning gaze as he led the man to the bathroom. He instructed him to brush his teeth; Sam felt that now was as good a time as any to start on some of the more human necessities. Maybe it would prolong his powers failing if he could preserve the energy normally put forth to maintain his vessel; Sam knew that logically this would do little to help the situation, but it was something that he could do, so he would. He needed to feel like he was helping even if it was nothing more than playing pretend. 

From there he led Cas back to his room that for some time had been becoming more so their room; the silence that had befallen between the two was heavy with the new information Castiel had just given Sam, but not uncomfortable. Upon reaching the room Sam moved his hands to rest on Castiel’s shoulders, the two staring at each other for a long moment, before Sam moved to push off Castiel’s trench coat. 

“Undressing me is unnecessar—“

Sam didn’t allow the words to stop him, carefully taking the trench coat in his hands. 

“Please let me” It was a quiet murmur, sounding like a plea of its own; his eyebrows furrowed with concern, and stress lines on his face more prominent now than ever. 

Castiel relented with a single nod of his head: “Of course”

Sam relaxed slightly, ducking down, and pressing his lips softly against Castiel’s in a silent display of his thanks. After he barely pulled away, instead pressing his forehead against Castiel’s; he studied the man’s face as the others eyes fell closed. After a moment Sam’s fell shut as well, his fingers working their way down Castiel’s torso, unbuttoning as they went solely through muscle memory. Once he reached the bottom Sam stayed where he was for another moment, allowing his hands to linger on Castiel’s bare stomach before moving up to push the man’s shirt off; Castiel shrugged his shoulders, moving his arms to make it easier for Sam, but otherwise simply allowed him to do as he wished. 

Sam folded the shirt just as carefully as the trench coat before he nudged Castiel towards the bed, waiting for him to sit before he lowered to one knee. His hands moved swiftly to unlace his shoes, but Castiel’s voice stopped him before he could remove the socks as well. 

“Leave the socks please”

“What?”

“My feet get cold” 

“I’ll give you a clean pair”

Sam momentarily wondered if Castiel had been feeling more of the effects of the temperature in the bunker, or if his feet getting cold had been an issue he had when he was a human for the short period of time in past. Castiel seemed conflicted which confused Sam, but he took Castiel’s nod as consent to take his socks off. Sam moved away from Castiel, setting his shoes on the floor by Sam’s desk, before setting his socks carefully on the top of the pile of clothing forming on the desk. 

Sam moved to his closet, pulling out a few items of clothing, and setting them next to Castiel. Once again Sam lowered onto one knee, unbuttoning, and pulling the zipper down on Castiel’s pants, tugging them off with some help from Castiel. In no time at all he was pulling a pair of soft sweatpants up Castiel’s legs, making sure they were tied securely around his waist, and that the bottoms were cuffed despite the fact they were doing no more than going to sleep— or perhaps only laying down in Castiel’s case; Sam was unsure if it had gotten to the point he could actually sleep. 

Sam placed a soft kiss against Castiel’s right knee when he was done, before taking his foot in hand, and pulling on a pair of thick grey, and red socks with the word “HANES” printed across the top. He proceeded to do the same to Cas’ other foot. Raising to his feet he pulled an old hoodie over top of Castiel’s undershirt; the material was slightly ratty, a mustard yellow; the block letters across the chest spelt “STANFORD” at one time, but now only the faintest remnants of the letters could be made out. Sam squeezed Castiel’s hand once before rolling up the cuffs of the hoodie. 

“Good?”

Castiel didn’t answer right away, only looking down to study the material; Sam spotted the ghost of a smile across his lips, his shoulders seemed more relaxed under the material; all together Castiel looked much smaller than he actually was in these baggy items, and it only seemed to cause the streak of protectiveness Sam was currently nurturing to flare up. 

A few more moments of silence passed, only broken with Castiel’s parroted “good”. The word itself was slightly strained. Sam could relate, sometimes it was the smallest gestures that ended up being the most overwhelming. 

Only then did Sam move from where he had been standing towards his closet once again, undressing himself. There was a quickly fleeting moment of elation that he was certain he would always get at the fact he no longer had to remove a binder, or deal with the uncomfortably tight material restricting his breathing. He kept his boxers on, pulling on a long sleeve shirt over his torso, and deciding that would do for bed not bothering with pants. 

Despite the fact that Castiel often stayed in the same room as Sam slept at night it was fairly rare for the two of them to actually hold one another; it did happen occasionally, mostly when one or both of them had a particularly difficult day. Most nights Castiel instead would stay awake, and watch Netflix, or read The Daily Post. Some nights he would meditate, and relax enough where it was about as close as an angel could get to sleep. Being in each other’s presence was enough for them. 

Once they finally settled Sam had his arms around Castiel, his head rested against Sam’s chest. After some time Sam heard a shift in the man’s breathing, a soft snore that made Sam want nothing more than to protect Castiel from any potential danger the other could find himself in. He tightened his grip the smallest bit as if he could use his arms to shield Castiel from the world. 

****

Castiel watched the movements of Sam’s hands through his eyelashes. Sam’s hands were large, easily one and a half of Castiel’s own. Even in the low light of the room Sam’s knuckles, and veins were prominent the skin around them pulled taut. His fingers were thick in comparison to most, but still slim in proportion to the rest of him, so long that they would look out of place on a man any smaller than Sam was. They were calloused, and scarred from decades of hunting; imperfect sums adding up to a perfect whole. They looked as if they should be clumsy, struggling with the small discs of plastic, yet each movement was swift and precise; Sam’s fingers were perfectly in sync in their movements. He shivered slightly every time the pad of one of his fingers swiped against the exposed skin on his torso. 

It took an effort for Castiel not to tremble under the careful movements of Sam’s hands. The soft caresses, each seeming to linger a fraction of a moment longer than the last. Each one seemed to fill Castiel with a warmth that he had not expected. He keened at the grazes of Sam’s skin, pressing into them slightly as a silent plea for more. 

He shut his eyes for a moment when Sam was done, eventually his gaze trailing down to the hoodie itself; it was most definitely old, easily over a decade. Castiel had never seen Sam wear the material before, and he was certain that while it was still baggy on him that it would now be too tight for Sam to comfortably wear. At that moment Castiel felt as cherished as the item itself must have been since Sam had left his university. He felt some of the everpresent worry slip away if only for a moment. 

In the morning Castiel spent a very long time in a half awake, half asleep peaceful bliss. At some point during the night the two of them had adjusted their positions, Castiel’s back pressed flush against Sam’s chest, and muscular, and long limbs wrapped around him. It took awhile for Castiel’s mind to come back to reality enough to register the fact that he was asleep. That he had spent the entire night actually sleeping. This made the fact that his powers were failing again much more real. Undeniable. He must have shifted too much for the sleeping hunter’s liking as he soon felt an open palm against his chest, pressing gently as to keep him in place. Castiel tensed for a long moment, before relaxing back into the warmth. And maybe he could feel the weight of his wings against the parts of him Sam was draped over.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!


End file.
